Chapter 27
So What
“Do y’all know this song? This is as much as I can play.”
I strum a couple of chords and hear some whoops and whistles. I’m still on my own, so I go ahead and sing and they finally begin to join me on the chorus. I’m sure it’s only been about three minutes, not the three hours I’m imagining. But I haven’t panicked.
After an eternity that probably amounted to a total of thirty more seconds, I hear the correct pattern of notes strummed confidently. A much richer voice than mine fills the air when Sam plops down beside me.
Hallelujah.
I’m thrilled to give up the spotlight and take a back seat in the harmony where I belong.
I glance at him, looking for any sign of distress, but he’s all boyish grins and sunshine.
Business as usual. He picks back up as if it’s completely normal to leave your own show with an inexperienced babysitter.
Not suspicious at all, Sam.
We sing the rest of “Multiplied,” then he continues strumming chords in the same lazy way I did while he casually chats with his admirers.
“Thanks for watchin’ Lu Lu for me. She can be a real handful sometimes. Are we still having fun?” He pulls me up from the wooden block, and I hand his ginormous guitar over once he puts the other one back.
I notice Sam and Carla exchanging a thumbs-up, so I guess she handled whatever the problem was.
“Hey, Sammy, do ‘Love by the Lake,’” I tell him, leaning away from the microphones. It’s the perfect time for him to work in some of his own songs.
“You know my song?” He looks at me skeptically.
“Of course I do.”
“Really?” His face looks like he got a puppy on Christmas morning … or like mine when Jude brings me a pretzel. My stomach clenches.
How ironic it would be if that’s the stray thought that takes me out—not trying to play a song I barely know in front of over a hundred people. I have no idea how many are out here. More than I signed up for, that’s for sure.
I shoot him a glare. “Make me cry and I’ll never listen to it again.”
His goofy grin is worth hours of his twangy music, but I’ll never admit it.
After a couple of his shortened originals, he wraps it up, and we sit on the medal podium again to close out the night singing “Brother.”
At least I thought that’s what we agreed on.
Carla’s to our right, communicating with Sam again, and I wonder if she’s sending videos to Annie or how much of this show has been live on his socials. That’s a question for tomorrow, I guess.
“Get Miss Honey.” Sam nudges me before turning back to the crowd.
I’ve yet to figure out why some guitars get names and others don’t, but I know what he wants.
He sets a rhythm on the keyboard and loops something with pedals, so I sling the Honey Burst Stratocaster over my neck while I wait for him to hand back the one he has.
He leans down to plug in and adjust the guitar I’m holding but doesn’t take it from me.
Playing the riff from the Pink song Jace and I played the other night, Sam nods for me to echo it back. I assume he’s checking the sound, and since this guitar is more like mine, I get the notes out much clearer than when I attempted it Tuesday at The Drip.
For once, I nail it, and the crowd goes nuts.
Sammy leans into the mic. “I got a real special request here, but I’m gonna need some help.
We need all the energy y’all got just one more time.
” They cheer wildly. “Lu Lu came wayyy out of her comfort zone to be here with me tonight. I know for a fact she can sing the heck out of this song, so since somebody requested a color, I think she’s gotta sing this song by Pink.
We ain’t got much choice now, do we, Squirrel? ”
“Huh?” I must’ve been in deep concentration trying not to completely suck in front of a whole bunch of people, because I missed the part where I agreed to sing an angry breakup song at a church camp. “Wait. What?” I bark at him away from the mic. “I can’t sing that here! Who would request that?”
“Just improvise. I’ve heard you do it. It’ll be fun, and I play this way better than Jace.” He flashes me a smile that should be his entire marketing strategy.
But I heard him. Freaking Jace.
What little sun we had today is long gone, but colorful string lights glitter through the light misty rain. Everything looks sparkly and magical now that it’s dark. The temperature has fallen considerably, and once my heart rate slows, I’m going to want my jacket.
I pull the strap back over my head, handing him Miss Honey as he returns the guitar he had. I love the Strat’s sweet sound, but me playing it is a big fat nope. Somehow, singing becomes the lesser of two nopes.
“Hey.” He leans close to my ear. “I’ll back you. But you need this. Do it big.”
Did I plan to scream about being a rock star or call anyone a tool?
No.
But do I enjoy belting out “So What”?
Absolutely I do.
Sam’s energy is infectious, and he knows exactly how to push me. His guitar wails with more attitude than I’ve ever heard, and the power I feel welling up from within makes me wish I could scream this song at every person who ever made me feel like I had to shrink myself in their presence.
I’ve never sounded this good a day in my life, but with Sam—chef’s kiss.
My heart pounds, but for three minutes, I am invincible.
I punch the air in excitement from the top of the medal podium as we finish. Sam whips his guitar off and swings me around while the kids are still jumping and screaming.
“Don’t spin or I’ll puke!” I laugh as I smack his shoulder.
Sam puts me down and motions something to Carla as he puts the guitar back around his neck.
Then he thanks everyone for coming out and strums rapidly for his finale.
I vaguely hear Sam say my name and something like tell her goodbye, she’s got a tree to climb.
But it’s a different voice, raspy smooth like salted caramel, that makes every other sound fade away.
“That’s my girl!”
My eyes dart to the left, frantically searching for the owner of my favorite voice. When my sights zero in on a man dressed like he just stepped out of a board meeting for a Fortune 500 company, I know my life will never be the same.
“Oof!” Jude grunts when I pounce on him, causing him to release the suit jacket over his arm. “I’m so proud of you, Lu.”
His hair was neatly pulled back before I got my hands in it. I’m sure it went well with the fitted dress shirt and perfectly tailored charcoal pants, but my inhibitions have been thoroughly released. I bury my face in his neck and inhale like I haven’t had oxygen in days.
The way I latch onto him is beyond koala. This is a desperate, lovesick—can’t survive another minute without you—koala.
“Jude,” I whisper against his stubbled jaw. “Say it again.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
I sniff at the onset of tears, winding my fingers through his hair as he holds me in the dark, barely hidden at the side of the stage.
“Thanks, but that’s not ...”
Somehow his grip gets even tighter, and he presses his mouth to my ear. “My girl.”
That low, assertive tone would get him anything.
Something between a gasp and a groan escapes me when he kisses my cheek. “Gorgeous … brave … bad-aaa—”
I put a hand over his mouth to stop him, but I can’t stop my own smile from spreading. He playfully bites it and kisses my cheek near my ear again.
“Mine.”
Shivers run through me, shutting down half my brain.
“Wait. I have to help Sam.” I loosen my grip, my sense of responsibility still hanging on by a thread.
“I brought him help. You’re with me now.”
And that thread has snapped.
My body liquefies when his words sink in. He grins at the disbelief on my face. “I took care of it, Rock Star. Get your stuff.”
Not only do I get Jude tonight, I get bossy Jude.
Yes, please.
He lowers me to my feet, keeping me close, and kisses my head. This may be the first time I’ve completely exhaled in six months.
I can’t stop staring at him. He looks delicious … I mean different. His white shirt’s half unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled showing my favorite ink, but I can easily imagine how he’d look in some executive boardroom.
I’ll find out why he’s dressed this way later, but right now, I just want to look at him. At least three new fantasies have been unlocked in the last five seconds.
“You’re staring.” He smirks. “Any confessions?”
I can’t answer that yet. I just hold his gaze and nod slowly.
His grin slips, and his throat bobs as he swallows. “I think we better get out of here before you start something I have to finish.”
“I left my backpack in the cabin,” I manage to squeak out, and tug his hand to follow me down the steps toward the path that brought me here. Two hours ago feels like a past life now.
“You might want to say goodbye to Sam. It won’t take him long with Cade helping.”
I reluctantly let go of him and run straight into a rib-cracking Sammy bear hug. He introduces me to Cade from a distance, and I wave since he’s already loading the car.
“Thank you for making me do this. Today was amazing. And exhausting.”
“It was epic, Smalls! Even better than I imagined. See what happens when you let yourself have fun? I can’t wait to do it again.”
“No, no. Once was good. But really, thanks for helping me with that other thing too.”
“It’s been a good day. You know who you are, Lu Lu. You gotta trust yourself.”
“I love you, Moose. Y’all be safe going home. Come over to Mom’s tomorrow.”
“Okay, I will.” He looks at me and then up at Jude over my head. “I love y’all too. It’s startin’ to sprinkle. Hurry and go make out somewhere.”
He sidesteps out of my reach with a pitchy cackle when I glare at him.
Jude pulls him into a man-hug and slaps him on the back. “I’m proud of you, kid. Y’all really know how to pull the best from each other. Stay awake and be careful on the wet roads. You got enough money?”
“Thanks, man. Yeah, I’m good.” Sam smacks both of our hands, and we each carry as much equipment as we can to his car on our way down the path to the cabin.
We make it about halfway before I feel something I’ve rarely felt around Jude: nerves.
Our relationship is hovering precariously over the edge of change, and the flutters in my stomach are making me lightheaded. Also, Sammy snacked all day, but I haven’t eaten since the blueberry donut. I didn’t trust my stomach after that. I still don’t.
The rain has escalated from mist to steady drizzle, and my boots slip over the wet pine needles.
Jude yanks my arm up to keep me from falling, and I reach my other hand out to him.
He steps in front of me and swiftly hauls me over his shoulder, so my face now hangs just above the evidence that supports my “he was a catcher” theory.
“Jude! What are you doing?” I shriek.
“You’re sliding, and we’re both getting soaked.”
“Put me down. I’m fine.”
He lightly swats the back of my thigh. “Why? It’s an excellent view, don’t you think?”
“I can’t tell. My hair’s covering my eyes.”
I’m lying. It’s majestic.
I’m in the fight of my life resisting the urge to swat him back.
“I’m sure you’ve looked before, Punk.”
His laugh erupts when I pinch his side, bringing back our usual easiness. He gets in a few more long strides before the sky cracks with thunder and the clouds empty on us for the second time this week.
Wet hair obstructs my vision when he picks up speed, making me squeal when he lurches to a stop under the overhang of the tiny cabin’s red tin roof. Lowering my feet to the step, he crowds me against the door to get us both out of the rain as much as he can.
I tip my head back, raking through wet hair with my hands, and come face-to-face with a molten swirl of golden brown and green an inch from my face. The frantic rise and fall of his chest flush against mine makes me forget where I am … who I am … what words mean.
“Code?” he asks, close enough to taste the Tic Tacs on his breath and feel it puff against my nose.
“Huh?” I breathe. What language is this?
Water still drips down our faces despite a few inches of cover. He licks a drop of rain from his lips in a slow fluid motion, and I track the movement like a jungle cat. It’s the single most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.
“What’s the code, Lu?” His graveled voice has set up camp and is currently building a fire in my belly. Heat radiates throughout my entire body, and I can’t comprehend a thing he says so close to my face.
I pant as if I’m the one who did the carrying. “For what?”
He dips his nose down, grazing mine, and I let go of my own wet hair to work on his—peeling wet strands from his eyes and cheeks, only slightly aware that I’m pulling him to me.
Or is he pulling me to him?
He grunts a rough exhale, and his eyes fall shut, his hands tightening around my back and hip. “Door … code.”
With a phantom of a touch, our lips brush as I answer. “It’s … umm. One … two … three …”
He drags in a breath, startling me when he speaks. His voice feathers lightly at the corner of my mouth and his hand caresses my cheek before slipping behind my neck. “I can’t go back.”
Momentarily confused, I stare until his words click.
We can’t go back to just friends.
“Good.”